The Impossible Wager
by A Being Of Violet Fire
Summary: What if someone had seen what Dumbledore was doing, and what would happen should he be left unchecked? What if that someone could stop it? What would they need to fix everything, before it even begun? In this case: five seconds, and a wager with Chance...


Justice strode with purpose down the dark, ethereal hallway. He had a mission. What he had seen, what he had learned…

Well, he had some serious work to do.

As he reached his destination, he could barely hear the two voices through the door.

"_C'mon Chance… just let me know who the Prophesy Child will be. I'll be influencing his life, and the suspense of which child it is is __**killing **__me…"_

"_Oh… I suppose… but I expect a favor returned… the child will be…"_

Justice banged the doors open and boomed, "Don't you dare tell her, Chance!"

Both Destiny and Chance turned towards him in surprise. The old crone recovered first, before sneering, "And why wouldn't I?"

Justice smirked, knowing that he had already won. "Because I can give you… a _wager_."

It was well known that Chance enjoyed a wager more than anything else. No matter the price, if she thought the odds good, she would take it. She very rarely lost. But even if the wager was between two others, and not herself, she would pay gold just to preside over it. It was the only way that she could get her kicks, as magic would block her from seeing the outcome to prevent foul play and thus it would be as much a surprise to her as to those who were betting.

And even if people generally tended to avoid the hag-like crone, both for her twisted sense of humor and her crass language, they would always go to her for a wager. Because she was the most powerful, fair judge. If someone backed out on a wager made by Chance… well, they would live to regret it… maybe.

Destiny shrieked and stamped her foot, but both the grinning Chance and smirking Justice ignored her.

"Done. What is your wager, and whom is it with?"

Justice looked up and locked eyes with the suddenly nervous-looking Destiny. "My wager is between myself and Destiny, should she choose to accept. I wager that half-blood Harry Potter will be the Prophesy Child."

"And the terms?"

Here, Justice inwardly smirked. He _knew _that Destiny would be unable to resist. "If I win, I will have complete control over the Prophesy Child, with no interference from _anyone – _so no bribery.

"On the other hand, if _you _win, if Harry Potter is _not _the Prophesy Child, I will not interfere either. You will be able to do whatever you want to your 'Prophesy Child', and I won't lift a finger."

Justice and Chance both watched with amusement as Destiny struggled with herself. It was obvious that she wanted to refuse – _what if she lost!_ – but it was also equally obvious that the chance of Justice not interfering in her plans – which tended to be a bit heartless and cruel – was too good to pass up. Finally, after an eternity, Destiny nodded a reluctant assent.

"Deal."

Justice smirked widely, openly; and Chance cackled as the golden Wager settled around them. Now all that remained was to wait.

But only Justice saw the shadow in the corner who levitated a small ball, no larger than a fingernail – glowing with five grains of luminescent sand – into a round basin in the center of the room. There was an indiscernible hum as the ball dissolved, before the shadow slipped away.

And Justice smiled a very, _very _dark smile.

* * *

"JAMES CHARLUS POTTER! I'M GOING TO RIP OFF YOUR DICK AND SHOVE IT UP YOUR ASS!"

James screamed – literally _screamed – _in absolute terror as his bastard ex-friends laughed at his misfortune. With every curse and threat that came from behind the closed door where Lillian Marie Potter nee Evans was giving birth Remus and Sirius grew a little more incoherent from hilarity; until they were eventually curled up sobbing in laughter on the floor.

While hiding beneath a chair at the newest threat that involved an action of contortionism that James was sure wasn't even _possible; _the Marauder promised himself that he was going to cast a castration hex on the both of them.

Threatening to shove Remus' dick up Sirius' ass wouldn't much of a punishment at all, as the horny bastards were more than capable of doing so themselves.

Then he would take Lily and his child and run – hide. Anywhere. Preferably the moon. Moony and Pads would never reach him there.

Hopefully.

Scratch that, he'd just ask Sirius to be godfather. The horror on both Remus and Sirius' face would _so _be worth it… assuming that Lily didn't hex his bullocks off in retaliation…

* * *

"Franklin. Ignotius. Longbottom. If you don't get your _fucking cowardly arse _in here RIGHT NOW, _YOU WON'T HAVE ONE ANYMORE!"_

Unknowingly mimicking his fellow Auror, Frank Longbottom screamed in terror before obeying his harpy-like – er, he means _lovely_ – wife to hold her claws – _er, hand – _as she gave birth to his son and heir.

Gideon and Fabian Prewett were propped up against eachother, laughing their arses off, at their friend's misfortune. They couldn't _wait _to meet the little Longbottom, who was already causing much hilarity and amusement.

After all, as godfather's, is was their _duty _to ensure that tiny Neville would be the greatest and most feared prankster since yours truly.

If for nothing else than to see the identical looks of horror on Frank and Alice's face. And Dowager Longbottoms _screams… _they could hear them now, music to their ears.

* * *

"_The path is uncertain, the die is cast, the wager belongs to Chance and shadows…" _The old crone leaned over the pensieve-like basin where both in-labor witches could be seen. Justice and Destiny stood on either side, eyes sharp as they watched Chance throw her un-decipherable dice onto the surface of the image, as though it was glass and not water.

The seven dice rolled, stopping on a seeming random pattern of runes and symbols. Justice noticed Chance hold her breath as the final dice teetered between two different symbols, Justice and Destiny, life and death.

And the dice finally landed, and the crone cackled, and there was a flash of light followed by the cry of a newborn child.

* * *

"Come in, come meet your little godson." Alice whispered to Gideon and Fabian as they entered, even as they snickered at Frank's expression of harried joy and terror. "We named him Neville. Neville Franklin Longbottom, first son and Heir to the Ancient and Noble House of Longbottom."

Both Twins inched closer until they saw the face of the child that they would be partially responsible for for the rest of their lives. They stared for an infinite amount of time at the sleeping infant's face, before…

"He looks like a smooshed prune." Gideon guffawed, while Alice shrieked and Fabian smacked him on the back of the head.

"When was he born?" Fabian asked, trying to both turn attention from his brother's life-threatening comment as well as keep himself from laughing as well.

Frank cast the charm, and they all blinked in shock at the floating numbers.

"Whoah, talk about cutting it close little scamp…"

* * *

James, Remus, and Sirius all snuck into the room where the cry of a newborn could still be heard.

James took one look at his son's scrunched up face and wild raven hair before he froze and whispered, "I have a son…"

Suddenly he started running around the room, screaming and jumping up and down, "I HAVE A SON! _I HAVE A SON!_"

Seeming to have caught the same insanity, Sirius started doing the same, although his voice was tinged with panic and bewildered confusion. "I have a… godson… I have… _responsibility?_ I. Have. A. _GODSON?"_

And he promptly passed out on the floor.

While this was happening, Remus approached Lily and gently took the squalling child from her arms, who immediately stopped crying and began cooing and playing with Remus' shoulder-length hair.

"What did you name him?" Remus asked, looking down fondly at his little cub with warm amber eyes.

"Hadrian Jamison Potter. Or Harry James Potter for short." Remus cocked his head, seeming to run the name over in his mind, before he nodded with a small smile on his face.

"Yes… Harry… I think it suits him. When was he born?"

Lily, seeing that her husband and his best friend were _clearly _out of commission, flicked her wand and displayed the exact time of birth over Harry's head, who started oohing and giggling at the floating numerals.

Both Lily and Remus blinked in shock. "Well, I'll be damned…"

* * *

"11:59:59pm." Justice grinned, taking pleasure from Destiny's shocked and horrified expression as well as Chance's cackling. "Both of them, born at the _exact same time_. Therefore, both belong to me."

"No!" Destiny screeched, looking at the image in the basin, of both mothers and godfathers staring in shock at identical glowing numbers. "No! You wagered that Harry would be the Prophesy Child, and I wavered that Neville would be. Therefore, Neville belongs to me!"

"On no," Justice's grin widened further, and Chance nearly doubled over with pleasure and joy at the way that Justice had so masterfully played the bitch. "I bet that Harry James Potter would be the Prophesy Child, that is true. But _you _only wagered that I would be wrong, that Harry _wouldn't _be the Prophesy Child. You never wagered that Neville would be instead."

Justice and Chance could see her going over the words that had been spoken earlier, and both saw the exact moment where she realized that he was right. Justice continued, "I never said that Harry would be the _only _Prophesy Child, I just said that I wager that Harry would _be _one, and that if he was, the Prophesy Child belonged to me. _Both _are the Prophesy Child, Harry _is _a Prophesy Child, and therefore _both. Belong. To. Me._"

Destiny turned desperately to Chance, but the old crone only spread her hands wide in an expression that clearly said that it was out of her hands. The grin on her face spoke of no remorse over that fact, however.

Destiny threw a _fit._ She screamed, she stomped her feet, she overturned the basin, blacking out the image and sending the dice scattering randomly across the floor. She paused for a moment and looked up, only to be met with Justice and Chance's humored and indulgent expressions, as though she was no more than a recalcitrant child who was pouting over something that they had been told they could not have – which is indeed what she was. With one final shriek and foot-stomp, Destiny spun and stormed from the room, Justice and Chance's laughter ringing in her ears.

After a moment, Chance turned and stared balefully at Justice. "So, how'd ya do it?"

Justice paused for a moment, before answering, still staring at the door that Destiny had left through. "You know how Fate is currently dating Father Time?"

Chance nodded, snorting and mumbling, "_The old dog…"_

Justice nodded. "Yes, well, she was working with Destiny to control the Prophesy Child's life. But while she was visiting the Time Temple, she touched something that she shouldn't. And she saw Harry's full life, everything that would have happened had Fate and Destiny been allowed their way.

"And it was horrible. She told me everything, _begged _me to give both Harry and Neville Justice. Both of us went to Father Time, and pled our case. He agreed, and gave us a Five Second, which Fate dissolved into your Basin after the Wager had been made."

"No way…" Chance breathed, eyes wide in shock. It was well known that just the smallest increment of time could make all the different. Dodge that curse by two seconds, turn that corner one second later, reach your dying friend five seconds too late. These increments of time were precious, valuable… and utterly impossible to obtain unless Father Time gave them to you.

And now, it seemed, that that extra Five Seconds made all the difference, made Neville a Prophesy Child where he otherwise wouldn't have been. Gave both Harry and Neville to Justice's righteous and fair hands. Justice nodded and smiled darkly before turning back to face Chance for the first time since the wager had been resolved.

Even for all of her hardened callousness, for all the horror and death and destruction that she had both seen and caused, Chance shuddered at the look in Justice's dark eyes. It was a look that promised death, retribution, revenge. It promised payment by blood, soul, and bone. It promised that Neville Franklin Longbottom and Hadrian Jamison Potter belonged to _him…_and anyone who said otherwise was worse than dead.

But the shiver down her spine had nothing to do with fear, and everything to do with gleeful, dark anticipation for the future. A future, owned and run by Justice.

The die had been cast.

* * *

It's amazing what a huge different such a small thing as someone _caring_ can make.

Thanks to Justice; James, Lily, Remus, and Sirius broke the potions placed on them by Dumbledore that were causing them to shun Peter and driving him towards the Dark Side. They had always known that Peter suffered from abandonment issues due to his own experience in the Muggle foster care system, and they were appalled when they realized what damage they had been forced to do.

They practically moved Peter in with them, making him Harry's favorite babysitter and plushy toy (though they had to constantly remind him to be _gentle_). And due to their wariness and distrust that they 'subconsciously' felt, they all contacted Severus to make them Potion-infused Amulets. Such a process takes _lots _of time, and as such they also moved Severus into their house with them.

After much time, groveling, and French truffles (a secret vice of Severus'), they managed to gain his forgiveness and trust – as well as his nearly-golden friendship. After the Amulets were finished Dumbledore met with them to 'convince' them to go to Godric's Hollow under a Fidelius Charm for 'little Harry's' safety.

But as their Amulets were infused with potions that prevented mind-manipulation, coercion, confundus, or even most consumed mind-controllers; they were able to see through Dumbledore's manipulations – mainly, using their baby as bait with them – Lily and James – as the canon fodder.

Needless to say, they refused, and promptly took themselves, Sirius, Remus, Peter, and even Severus into Potter Manor, where the wards were sealed against Voldemort and Dumbledore alike.

The war seemed to come to an abrupt stop, for reasons that no one else knew. Dumbledore tried to start a campaign, saying that little baby Harry had defeated the Dark Lord, but only temporarily, and that he was the 'Savior'. Needless to say, those rumors were quickly dispelled when Lily and James came back from hiding long enough to file – and win – a suit against Dumbledore for slander and name-usage of the Heir to the Ancient and Noble House of Potter.

And when Dumbledore turned around and tried to do the same to young Neville, who was being raised by Gideon, Fabian, and Frank (Alice had died roughly sixteen months after Neville was born. Justice knew that there was nothing that he could do to save her, as she had caught an extremely rare strain of Dragon Pox and Wizard's Flu that didn't have any visible side-effects, but simultaneously attacked the heart and lungs. It was this that had made her so weak when Bellatrix had attacked her in the previous life, but as she had been taken to St. Mungos she had been treated and cured. This time, however, she ignored the 'small cold' and 'little cough' until the disease took her last breath in her sleep), their retaliation had been much worse. Not only did their lawsuit nearly bankrupt the Dumbledore estate, but Albus, courtesy of Gideon and Fabian, suffered nearly six months of complete hair loss and a violently sick reaction to anything containing lemon.

After that, they went into hiding along with the Potters, and that was the last time the public would see the three House Heads – and their sons/godsons and friends – for the next ten years.

However, they were not idle during this time. Frank, Gideon, Fabian, Sirius, James, and Peter asked Severus, who still possessed the Dark Mark, why the Dark Lord had stopped attacking.

The answer was as shocking as it was incredible.

Apparently – as Severus told, for he was a good friend and confidant to Tom Riddle – young Voldemort had been abandoned in an orphanage when he was a baby. However, what truly turned him to resentment and hatred wasn't the abuse and hatred of the Muggles – which was still horrible – but the betrayal of the one who was supposed to protect him. Apparently both the Headmaster and Deputy Headmaster of Hogwarts knew when an Heir of Hogwarts was born. And it was Dumbledore who convinced weak-willed Headmaster Armando Dippet to leave the young Slytherin Heir in the orphanage, rather than taking him in and raising him as Hogwarts Charter dictated he do.

After that, it was betrayal after betrayal. Perhaps the most horrible, however, was how Dumbledore kept Tom Riddle's creature heritage from him. He was a Crimson Elf, but a rule of all Elves it that they may _only _sleep with their mates… or else they become barren. When Tom Riddle came into his majority and his creature inheritance after he turned sixteen, all the memory blocks on him – the ones that Dumbledore had placed to cover up the fact that he'd been raping Tom since he was twelve – were obliterated; simultaneously bombarding him with those horrible memories, as well as the inherent knowledge of his people – which revealed that, now, he could never have children; never have the family that he so craved.

_That _was when Voldemort was born. He was furious with Dumbledore, who would leave a child to abuse only to prey on that weakness once he was at school. Furious with most of the wizarding world, who refused to see and help him. And downright _livid _with the Muggle world, that had kept him woefully unprepared to face the responsibilities regarding his wizarding statuses, both as the Heir of Slytherin and as a Crimson Elf.

He resolved to make sure that it would _never _happen again. And to do that, he needed to completely re-haul the wizarding world. He planned on completely separating Muggles from Wizards, but keeping an eye on all Muggle-borns. When they showed their first sign of 'Accidental Magic', wizards would come, alter the memories of the Muggles, and blood-adopt the child into a pure-blood home; thereby bringing fresh magic into the Line yet keeping the inherent gifts that each Line carried within their blood.

But, gradually, through potions fed to him by Dumbledore's house-elf spies and his own Creature Inheritance crying out for the loss of children in the future, Voldemort gradually started to go mad.

One of Voldemort's many Slytherin gifts is Magical-Discernment. Therefor, as soon as Severus spoke the first part of the Prophesy, Voldemort knew that it was not true. But he still feared that Dumbledore would raise the child to defeat him, and so still planned on killing Harry.

But, miraculously, somehow Voldemort regained all of his sanity at once. All the potions faded from his system, and as soon as he realized it he ordered his house-elves to kill all of the imposters. Needless to say, there were suddenly thirty elves less than there had been. And – beyond all Magical comprehension – Tom Riddle suddenly was healed. It was as if he had never been forced, violated – and he could now have children. And when Lucius visited with his son, Voldemort recognized the Malfoy Heir as his mate, and nearly wept with joy.

Ever since that had happened, Tom had become so much more sane and level-headed. It was in this state of calmness that Tom realized that Magic would not allow a fake prophesy to be spoken by a seer, or else they would be struck down dead. And, as he knew the prophesy wasn't true, and yet Trelawney was alive, Tom Riddle knew that Dumbledore had probably altered what any eavesdroppers – and thereby Severus – would hear and report to their Lord.

That was the _real _reason that Dumbledore – in the alternate time-line – didn't want either Voldemort or Harry to hear the Prophesy in the Dept. of Mysteries. And that was why it worked out so well for him that it was destroyed, so that he could 'tell' Harry the 'real, full prophesy', that was in reality a load of tripe.

But now, as the world knew nothing of Tom Riddle's true identity, he just walked into the Department of Mysteries and asked to see any Prophesies under his name.

What he found had shocked him, and prompted him to stop his senseless killings and terror attacks and muster his forces and influence from the shadows.

The _true _Prophesy, changed everything:

_Those with the power to renew the Dark approaches…_

_Born to mend what has been torn asunder, born as the seventh month dies…_

_Death will mark them as His equal, but touched by Death they cannot be…_

_They and their bondeds will live forever for they are the balance Magic needs to survive…_

_Those with the power to renew the Dark are born as the seventh month dies…_

For a moment, Tom Riddle had wondered how he could be a part of this Prophesy, before he looked at the plaque beneath the Prophesy Orb. As Tom had grown up in a cruel Muggle orphanage, he had never known his true birthday.

But there, in beautifully, magically calligraphied words, it revealed the truth.

_Thomas Marvolo Riddle_

_Day of Birth: July 31__st__, 1926_

_Time of Birth: 11:59:59pm_

_._

_Hadrian Jamison Potter_

_Day of Birth: July 31__st__, 1980_

_Time of Birth: 11:59:59pm_

_._

_Neville Franklin Longbottom_

_Day of Birth: July 31__st__, 1980_

_Time of Birth: 11:59:59pm_

Tom Marvolo Riddle was a Prophesy Child.

Holy fucking shit.

* * *

It took a very long time for the Prewetts, Longbottom, and Potters to accept the truth, but it all made too much sense. When Fabian asked why he was telling them all of this, he replied that he had been given permission, and he wouldn't have told them if he hadn't thought them ready.

But he assured them that, had Voldemort decided to come after and kill the Potters, Severus would have abandoned his friend and mentor immediately and joined the Light-side that had wronged him as much as they had wronged Tom Riddle.

Touched by these assurances, they agreed to meet with Tom Riddle. After a series of meetings, they all became great friends, and eventually allowed Thomas, Harry, and Neville to blood-adopt each other, and thus form the closest and strongest bond that they could – the bond of family, of brotherhood.

The Prophesy – the _true _Prophesy – was coming into fruition.

* * *

Harry, Neville, and Draco stood together at Platform 9¾, in public for the first time in ten years, with Justice watching closely their every move.

He watched as they all made friends with the Weasley Twins, while simultaneously being frightened off by the youngest Weasley boy, Ronald. His sycophantic behavior was even worse and more obvious this time around, and Justice watched in amusement as the smaller Harry mock-gagged from behind Draco's back.

Justice grinned when he saw, this time around, that the Twins were in Slytherin, though he frowned as the suspicious bruises hidden just above their sleeve cuffs. But that worry was put on the backburner as he caught sight of Dumbledore's horrified face as Neville was sorted into Slytherin and Harry into Ravenclaw. Absolutely priceless.

And when the Hat said – _out loud – _that Ronald was being sorted into Hufflepuff because no other House would want him; Justice nearly fell out of his seat laughing.

Harry's first year went much smoother for him. Yes, Dumbledore still insisted on stealing Nicolas Flamel's Stone and hiding it in the school under the weakest protections imaginable, but there was no Spirit-Voldemort, and the human-Tom Riddle had no interest in the Stone, as he already knew, from the Prophesy, that him and his blood-brothers would live forever.

But Harry had been raised with a very inquisitive, curious mind – courtesy of his rat-animagus Uncle – and as such wanted to investigate the Forbidden Corridor, much like Dumbledore wanted. But Neville was much more wise and level-headed, and forbid his brother from wandering or going to the third floor. Harry reluctantly obeyed, and catastrophe was averted; despite the Invisibility Cloak that his father had sent him that year for Christmas.

That isn't to say that nothing horrible happened that year. Dumbledore, as a desperate attempt to test his 'Saviors'' abilities and powers, lowered the wards and allowed a nearby Mountain Troll in on Halloween. This time, Hermione had annoyed her House-mates with her constant corrections, lectures, and rants so utterly that they had confounded her so that they wouldn't have to deal with her for the feast.

Later, after they could get the horrified portraits to talk, they would say that she had just walked up to the Mountain Troll, stuck out her hand, and smiled. "Hello, I'm Hermione Granger. Did you know that your brain is smaller than a pea?" Needless to say, Hermione Granger was no more, and her parents were obliviated of ever having a daughter – less they cause problems for the magical world – and relocated to Australia.

As gruesome and disgusting as the death was, Justice knew that she had deserved it. In the other life, she had deliberately sabotaged Harry's work and mocked Neville's timidity. She was the one responsible for fabricating the near-waterproof evidence that had sent Harry to Azkaban – without a trial or Veritaserum. Her death was justice.

One thing that Justice hadn't seen coming, but had laughed over for _months _afterwards, was the dare that Gideon and Fabian Prewett gave their Twin nephews. Molly Prewett, once she had heard that her twin brothers had gone into hiding with the Potters and Longbottoms, had filed a Magical Restraining Order against them, so that they could not physically speak or interact with her children. But Gideon and Fabian had found a way around it, and had send Fred and George a letter while they were at school – that had become several, until it was a regular method of communication that eventually evolved to a dare war.

Gideon and Fabian never truly grew up, and so thought it great fun to dare their nephews to lift the Philosopher's Stone, that they had been told was in Hogwarts by the peeved Severus Snape (Severus had been taken on as Potions Master that year, over the protestations of Dumbledore, due to his credentials as the youngest Potions Master and the Potters speaking on his behalf). Imagine their surprise when they received a letter a week later, the stone within, saying that it was the easiest thing that they'd ever done, and could you please give us a challenge next time?

Gideon and Fabian gave it to Severus, who returned it to Nicolas and Perenelle, who thanked him for returning their stone by giving him the recipe and books required to make his own for himself and his spouse(s)/mate(s). Needless to say, Severus had nearly kissed the elder Twins, but had restrained himself at the last moment, much to both party's relief.

Quirrell was quite unharmed, and as it turns out, was a rather good DADA professor when he didn't have a parasitic Dark Lord on the back of his head. He finished the year with a lesson on Grindelows and Hinkypinks, and assurances that he would see them next year, Merlin willing.

Summer involved rigorous lessons and beginning-stages of Occlumency training, which involved basic meditation with a soothing, patient Uncle Severus. It also included several invitations to the Twins for outings, letters that always returned unopened.

* * *

Second year was significantly both less and more complicated. Due to Voldemort still being alive and young – due to his Elven inheritance – Lucius did not slip the Diary to Ginny Weasley. Indeed, Tom had only really made his Horcruxes to take away the anguish and crippling agony of betrayal and loss of heritage. As it was, when Justice healed him, and he found his mate, Tom swiftly absorbed all of his Horcruxes, and was well and truly whole.

On the other hand, it was discovered that George and Fred weren't the only set of twins in the Weasley family. As Dumbledore knew that both Neville and Harry were Prophesy Children, he needed a Light-Family girl for the both of them. Therefore, rather than aborting the twin girl in the womb as had happened in the alternate life (after all, couldn't have both girls fighting over Mr. Potter, now could we?), both were allowed to live and be sorted for their first year at Hogwarts.

Just as the last time, Ginevra Weasley was sorted into Gryffindor, loud and brash and confident. However, small, dainty, jittery Gwendolyn Weasley was sorted into Slytherin with her Twin brothers, much to Ron and Ginny's shouted disgust and horror, even while George and Fred tried to shield their littlest sister.

Neville, Draco, and Harry were quick to include her in their little group, and it was then that the horrible truth came out. As Gwen was unable to hide her bruises and flinches as well as the Twins, they were forced to tell of the secrets behind the Burrow walls. As soon as the Twins had been sorted into Slytherin, Molly and Arthur had sent a Howler. Every Monday morning. For the _entire year_. And when they got home, Arthur hadn't hesitated to show his displeasure… _physically_.

As the Twins were the first Weasleys in history to be sorted into Slytherin, there was a sudden fear the Ginny and Gwen would as well. And, while it was obvious that Ginny would be a Gryffindor, the same was not so for little Gwen. She liked to read. She was quiet. She enjoyed pranking and sneaking around with the Twins. She was clever and bright and insightful.

In other words, the opposite from what they wanted. And thus Gwen also suffered from her parent's displeasure and abuse. All her books were burned, she was magically punished every time the Twins pulled a prank, whether she was involved or not, and was forced to sleep in the attic with the Ghoul along with the Twins until she 'shaped up'. Little did they know, that their abuse was doing the opposite of what they intended, and Gwendolyn was terrified of her parent's reactions when they returned home. Charlie and Bill had been magically forced to keep their silence, and then forbidden from the Burrow altogether when they once tried to kidnap the Twins and Gwen to safety. Percy had decided to stay silent and invisible, and likely would have been a Slytherin if not for his own brand of bravery, when he covertly snuck the Twins and Gwen food, letters, and small things like soap, blankets, and toothbrushes whenever he could; at risk to his own welfare and continued position in his parent's eyes.

Also, another little firstie that they were forced (not really) to include in their circle was airy, petite Luna Lovegood. They found that she lived not too far from the Burrow – although closer than the Diggory's – and had been a childhood friend for Gwen since forever. Wherever Gwen went, Luna followed; though she couldn't do much for her friend after Xenophilius had attempted – and failed – to first get potions to the Twins and Gwen, and then trying to spirit them away to safety. With Dumbledore's help an illegal bit of magic was used that not only kept Xeno from stepping within two hundred yards of the Burrow, but also forced his mind onto unrelated and inconsequential things whenever he thought of the beleaguered Weasley trio; thus giving him the appearance of an absent-minded, brilliant, though obviously loony, man. Xeno soon learned to speak in code, using the names and images of already-fanciful creatures to pass information to his daughter and George, Fred, and Gwen. Luna had soon picked up on this method of talking, and it was a source of equal amusement and frustration for Hadrian and Neville's circle of friends.

The small group of second, first, and fourth years began throwing around ideas for how to get them out of the horrible situation. It was then, during the same conversation that explained Luna's presence, that the Twins revealed that fifth year Cedric Diggory, a remarkably intelligent, kind, and astute Hufflepuff, had found out the information during the Twins' second year, and was now a sort of older brother to the both of them, and more of a father-figure than Arthur had ever been. He had been sending healing potions and joke products to them throughout the summer months, and it was that kind and likely life-saving action that prompted them to include Cedric into their circle.

Other secrets that were revealed were Tom Riddle's true nature as well as the Prophesy, to Cedric, Luna, George, Fred, and Gwen's shock. For safety's sake they all took an Oath to not tell anyone about what they had discussed. As much as Neville, Draco, and Harry wished to tell their parents about what had happened, they knew that the knowledge could not wander around unprotected in their minds for that long, for they knew that Dumbledore had sanctioned the abuse. And it was well known that Oaths kept secrets from being found out – even by a Legilimens.

Beyond that, nothing happened in their second year, and they all left for home on the Hogwarts Express; with no plan of action for their white-faced and trembling friends, George, Fred, and Gwenny.

The summer was much the same, with no respite for the friends in sight. Letters were able to be smuggled in by Cedric (Luna was on 'vacation' with her father, who was really searching for a cure to the binding curse placed upon him), as he lived not too far away, but replies were impossible; as Arthur and Molly had not only removed all parchment and quills from the three's possession, but had also broken Gwen's hands for trying to sneak some food for her brothers, who were being punished for making a snide joke towards 'perfect' Ron with no meals for a week. With two teenage boys whose magical metabolism consumed thousands of calories a day, this was very near a death sentence.

However, no one gave up, and through the efforts of Draco and Neville – both almost-prodigy potions brewers – they were able to smuggle Gwen some skelegrow via Cedric; but all knew that it was not enough, and despite the growing worry and looks of the adults around them, as they tried to solve a problem that was too big for them.

* * *

But, as Hadrian and his friends met up with their white-faced, glamour-weighed, yet alive Weasley friends for their third year at Hogwarts, Justice felt optimistic, and pleased with the way that things were going thus far.

He hadn't thought about it before – hadn't had hardly any time between finding out the information and getting permission, and actually winning the wager and thus control over Hadrian and Neville to actually contemplate all of the ramifications – but there were so many lives that were changed, destinies altered just by those small changes he'd made in the beginning.

Like Sirius Black, who was never blamed for the murder of his best friends, and so was free to grow and mature throughout the years, resolving his feud with Severus and revealing the tension to be something else entirely. Remus, with his best friend Sirius beside him, took a small trip to the States to learn from the werewolves there, and as such learned to control and accept his wolf-side, and as such never suffered from the transformation again. Another unforeseen side-effect was that Remus learned that his wolf had two mates: Sirius… and Severus. This revelation had spurred a six month wooing process that resulted in the three of them being legally and Magically bonded, mates for life. And, as Sirius and Remus were Severus' mates, they would live forever with the help of their own Philosopher's Stone, that was even now in it's five-year maturing period before he could add the powdered Moonstone, phoenix tears, baby's breath, and one half-pound uncut ruby, before the last and final three-year settling period.

However, Justice could see that the two years of separation – with Severus teaching at Hogwarts and the other two alone at the Manor – and so he, with a little nudging, had Quirrell suddenly decide to take a sabbatical and travel the globe for a couple years, and Sirius and Remus took over the DADA position; Remus doing younger years while Sirius the older, with Sirius coving all during the full moon days.

The biggest, and most exciting change for both Hadrian and Neville, was the arrival of Blaise Zabini and Theo Nott to Hogwarts. As Voldemort never died, Mr. Zabini never went mad from desperate Dark Rituals to find his friend, and never was killed by Mrs. Zabini in defense of herself and her son during one of his fits.

On the other hand, Theodore Nott Sr. never lost his father-figure and mentor. It was Tom Riddle who had saved him when he was a child from his cruel father's abusive hand. It was Tom Riddle who had healed and tutored him, giving him the strength and power to never be abused again. Unlike in the alternate life, Theodore Sr. never suffered from feelings of abandonment and self-disgust, and as such never turned those same emotions onto his only son and Heir, the child that they had named Tom Riddle godfather of. Rather, in this life Theodore Nott Sr. was a kind, benevolent, soft-spoken man who was much loved by his wife and children; and great personal friends with the Zabini's.

Both families, for their own safety, had been encouraged by Tom Riddle to take an extended vacation. So they had. Together they had traveled the world, staying a few years here, a few months there; homeschooling their children as they came of age and purchasing their wands abroad. But the call to England – to their _home – _grew too strong, and as such they had finally returned; enrolling Theo Nott Jr. and Blaise Zabini into their third year at Hogwarts.

Where, with their thick mixed accents, tan, rugged skin, and sparkling, untarnished violet and sapphire orbs – they promptly garnered the attention of every student with a pair of working eyes. Especially that of Neville Longbottom and Hadrian Potter.

Blaise was sorted into Slytherin, while Theo was given over to Ravenclaw house. However, it was Ravenclaw Hadrian that strong, confident Blaise lusted and pursued after; while blushing, bookish Theo became the victim to the intentions of one Slytherin Longbottom heir.

Needless to say, the two rugged foreigners were quickly integrated into their groups, while submissives Harry and Theo blushed at the gentle teasing and innuendos while their pursuers smirked and watched from across the table.

Nevertheless, despite the care-free year filled with pranking Marauders and light promises for the future; there was still no solution found for Fred, George, and Gwen. And as Cedric prepared for his seventh year at Hogwarts, the Twins finished and passed their OWLS, and Gwen shared her first kiss with two tolerant, kind Gryffindor boys whom they considered letting into their circle next year; all hearts were weighed down by the pain and hopelessness of another year gone by with no solution in sight.

And as the terrified and near-shaking Twins dismounted the Hogwarts Express under Ron, Ginny, and Arthur and Molly's cold smirks and glares; the only thing that kept Justice from interfering was the knowledge that it would all be resolved the next year.

They just had to survive the summer; and Justice would do all that he could to make sure that happened.

* * *

Hadrian and Neville's fourth year at Hogwarts started out with a near-literal _bang!_

After the entire Hogwarts Express trip had been spent healing and shoving food and potions down George, Fred, and Gwen's throats – only to continue with giving them as much food as they could handle without throwing up at the feast – all of Harry and Neville's group were utterly thrown off guard with the announcement of the Triwizard Tournament's return.

The combined Ministries of England, Bulgaria, and France had been working for years to resuscitate the Tournament, and not even the protestations of the Potter, Longbottom, Black, Malfoy, Prewett, and Lovegood families combined were enough to stop the Juggernaut once it had started. The fact and comfort that there would be no insane Dark Lord and Ritual waiting at the end of it was but a small consolation for Justice, who saw the whole event as nothing more than an unjust and disgusting mimicry of the Roman gladiator days of old.

The only reason that Justice didn't interfere, was because he knew that everything would work out perfectly find in the end – especially with the death of Ronald Weasley. Justice felt that it couldn't have happened to a more deserving person – as Ron was responsible for stunning Harry and stealing his wand, using it to kill Neville under Dumbledore's orders and leaving the way open for his fiancé (Granger) to finish digging the proverbial grave for their ex-friend Harry Potter.

Ronald, whom had been told since infancy that he would be the practically-twin Saviors' best friend and 'controller', was sick and tired of being ignored and shunted to the side by his supposed 'best mates'.

He decided that, while his family name and Light-side status obviously wasn't working, fame and money were what would do the trick and draw Harry and Neville to his side.

One evening, while the Goblet was completely unmanned, Ron slipped into the hall and, using the top of one of his History of Magic essays, scribbled his name, tore it off the parchment, and, using the charm that students often used to pass notes, directed his paper-airplane entrance past the age line and into the flames of the Goblet. It was pure luck that the Goblet accepted the name, for the rules stated that a potential participant had to list their name _and school_ before throwing it into the Goblet. Ron had just put his name. However, the essay had been on the History of Avalon, and Ron had accidentally torn off the name of the ancient school at the same time. So the Goblet accepted it, accepted Ronald Weasley, as the one and only representative for Avalon High.

Suffice to say, for all of his boasting, Ron was unprepared to face an angry, nesting Hungarian Horntail; even with the desperate assistance and near-outright cheating displayed by both Dumbledore and Hagrid. Ten seconds and three weak _Expelliarmus' _later (as he had no Granger to help or encourage him to study and learn), Ron was no more than a pair of bloody, mangle legs, which were swiftly gobbled up by the Dragon, much to the onlooker's horror and stomach-rebelling disgust.

But none of Hadrian and Neville's group cared about the horrible red-head's fate. All were too concerned with Cedric, whom they were all helping and wishing through the Tournament. Him actually being chosen by the Goblet as the _True _Hogwarts Champion was a desperately-wished for surprise. Because, if he won, he would have the money and prestige/fame to legally adopt the Twins and Gwen. With one thousand galleons – which is the wizarding equivalent of a million dollars – Cedric could petition for custody on the basis that he could provide for them far more thoroughly than the overwrought Weasley parents ever could.

Publicly stating his intentions upon winning would back the Weasleys into a corner. They could refuse, but then it would seem that they were willing to deny their children a great honor – the honor of having an Ancient House offer sanctuary and provision for unnecessary heirs – but also condemn then to a life of destitution and poverty. This would utterly tarnish and demolish the Weasley family name, which they could not risk.

They might receive some opposition for trying to separate twins Gwen and Ginny, but Ginevra's declaration the previous year before all of the Great Hall that she would _never _recognize Gwen as her sister and magically divorced her and all ties with her greatly helped their side.

And that was exactly what happened. First came the Yule ball – in which Viktor invited the luminescent Luna and Bill (who had come with Charlie and the Dragons for the opportunity of seeing Fred, George, and Gwen for the first time in many years) was recognized by Fleur as one of her mates, with their third not yet of age – where Blaise and Harry, and Neville and Theo, had shared their first kisses and Gwen had revealed her two boyfriends – Seamus and Dean.

Draco and the Twins were suspiciously absent from the Ball. Well, Draco's absence wasn't suspicious, as he had already explained that he didn't feel like attending a Ball with anyone other than his beloved – Tom – but the Twins' absence was odd indeed. But everyone decided that the Twins must be planning some epic prank for the Ball, and so didn't think much beyond it except to make sure to avoid the punch. But the evening passed without incident, and as everyone fell into bed exhausted and giddy, all thoughts of the missing Twins were erased from their minds entirely; and no mention was made when they saw them the next morning. No one noticed that Charlie hadn't shown up either.

But soon after the Ball was the second task, and it was much to their group's excitement – despite their intendeds, in Luna's case – when Cedric was the first to return with his hostage inside of the time limit – little Gwen, which caused suspicious and hateful glares to be sent his way by the possessive and protective Dean and Seamus.

That night, they explained the entire situation to Viktor, Fleur, Bill, Charlie, Seamus, and Dean. Once they realized that Cedric only saw Gwen as a daughter/little sister, Seamus and Dean were much more kind and amicable towards the amused Hufflepuff. Viktor, whose feeling had been stung when he saw his crush's cheering and clapping for Cedric – rather than for him – was immediately mollified and offered to do everything he could to make sure that Cedric won the Tournament. Fleur and Bill offered the same, but Cedric immediately refused to take _charity_.

However, it was Fleur's sharp, rebuking words that forced him to accept, _"What's more eenportant right now? Protected la petit l'enfants, or your over-eenfloated eego?"_

Suffice to say, Cedric had accepted their offer and assistance with grace, and the Twins and Gwen nearly wept with joy at their reprieve being nearly in hand.

That Christmas Tom Riddle sent Harry a orange puffskein – that was so adorable with it's tiny body and feathery wings – that he named Snitch. But the gift he sent Neville was so much more sentimental to his young blood-brother… and infinitely more precious. Tom had decided that Neville was old and mature enough for the responsibility that came with the gift, and as such felt it was time to entrust him with the Resurrection Stone – horcrux absorbed and curse removed from the metal ring encasing the stone. Neville was able to speak and make peace with his mum, whom he only had small snatches of memories from. The gift had brought tears to both Hadrian and Neville's eyes; and the holiday was a welcome respite from the stress and worry over the Final Task.

Finally, it was the date, and one by one all the Champions disappeared into the tall, imposing maze. None knew what happened behind the hedges of the Third Task, but it mattered little when Cedric returned little more than three hours later, sweaty, dazed, bruised – yet triumphant, hoisting the glowing Triwizard Cup aloft for all of the cheering masses to see.

And when the Minister of Magic accosted him along with Rita Skeeter, asking for a comment and giving him his bag-full of galleons, Cedric took a deep breath and made the declaration that they'd been practicing all year – even more-so than his hexes and curses.

From there, everything just fell together, and by mid-summer Cedric was the proud, tearful guardians of three ex-Weasleys, having now been blood-adopted as Diggorys and erasing every trace of their hated heritage and lineage from their bodies.

Now that the secret was out Draco, Neville, and Harry explained everything to their families, whom they knew had worried over yet respected their silence and near-desperate studying. Many wonderful things happened as a result of the revelation: the curse on Mr. Lovegood had fallen, much to his and his daughter's joy; the magical restraining-order against Gideon and Fabian no longer applied, and as such they could visit their niece and nephew as much as they desired; and as Fred, George, and Gwen no longer lived at the Burrow, Charlie and Bill were free to visit at any time.

When Charlie had hugged Cedric in thanks, tears pouring from his eyes, the truth of the Twins and Charlie was explained. Charlie and the Twins were soul-mates, so alike in nearly everything that it was nearly impossible for them not to be. While the magical world is fairly tolerant and would not have spoken against the coupling, there were many muggle-borns and half-bloods that would have raised an uproar – with Molly and Arthur leading the cry. But now that there was no Weasley blood in their veins, there was no way that the relationship between Master Charlie and Submissives Fred and George could be considered incest – Cedric had found Charlie and Bill the solution that they had spent years looking for but had been unable to find or enact.

Lucius and Narcissa Malfoy threw a massive party for all involved that was remembered for years and years to come. But it was not merely a celebration. The Malfoys, Potters, Prewetts, Lovegoods, and Frank Longbottom dropped subtle hints and clues as to the Headmaster's actions and methods, seeing where their guests loyalties lied. By the time the evening had ended, nearly all were – if not Dark or Dark-sympathizers – then neutral or Light-haters.

All in all, they felt it a summer well spent; as the first movements for the Dark Lord's rise to power had begun.

Justice couldn't wait.

* * *

The train ride to Hogwarts at the beginning of Hadrian's fifth year was perhaps one of the lightest yet – especially in comparison to that of the alternate timeline.

The no death of Cedric Diggory to mourn over, and no bruises and hastily-administered potions for the Twins and Gwen, the ride was filled with laughter and talk of Luna's visit to Viktor in Bulgaria, and the marriage contract that had been drawn between the Royal Krum family's younger son (and thus allowed to choose his profession and spouse, unlike if he'd been the heir) and Luna, Heir to the Prestigious Line of Lovegood.

And, as Cedric was alive, Voldemort wasn't 're-born', and Dumbledore didn't subtly threaten the Ministry, Dolores Umbridge never came to Hogwarts with her thrice-damned Blood Quills. As a matter of fact, Justice had broken the Imperius and Obliviate charms Dolores had placed on one of the goblins at Gringotts to steal said Blood Quills; as they were customarily used for document-signings. Once those curses were broken, Dolores Umbridge was arrested by the Goblin Nation and tried and imprisoned in their prison below Gringotts reserved for thieves, oath-breakers, and potential inheritance-stealers. Term sentence was for life. The horrid, grotesque bint had it coming.

As there was no insane Voldemort mentally attacking and raping Harry through his now-nonexistent scar, Harry was never prompted to wander off to the Department of Mysteries in search of an illusive prophesy that he didn't know existed. Except, _this _time, Harry and Neville _did _know that it existed. Indeed, as they'd mastered Occlumency last year, and were now working on Legilimency, they'd been allowed to hear the Prophesy themselves.

So when Dumbledore – who was, ironically enough, working on the same timeline as the alternate Voldemort's – visited the Ministry and discovered the Prophesy had already been retrieved near-fifteen years earlier by Tom Riddle; it was of no surprise to Hadrian and Neville when Dumbledore called them into his office and tried to tell them of their 'terrible burden' and their 'destiny' and of his self-created/botched 'Prophesy'.

"So it could be either one of you." Dumbledore sighed sadly, looking over the top of his half-moon spectacles at the remarkably stoic-looking boys _('Good, they'll need that to pull off what I've planned for them')_, "It could be you, Harry, the half-blood that he pretends not to be, that he was born as; or it might be you, young Neville, the pureblood that he masquerades as, sorted into the same House as he – Slytherin. But make no mistake, it _will _be one of you, and I am so sorry to ask you this terrible thing – but one of you _must kill Tom Riddle_."

The two of them stared at him for a moment, before nodding – as though confirming something to themselves, and Dumbledore wondered why a cold chill had just slithered down his spine – and standing.

"It occurs to me, Headmaster," Hadrian looked into his eyes, emerald diamond-hard and impenetrable, his hands clasped behind his back, "that you're still fighting a war that has been declared over ten years ago. Perhaps you _want _Voldemort to come back and start slaughtering people? Pining a bit for you glory days, back when you defeated Grindenwald and no one dared to oppose you – by, say, filing a suit against you for exploiting an innocent child and removing you as Wizengamot Head?"

Smoothly, Neville continued – changing the subjects – moving the attention off of his blood-brother before Dumbledore could take umbridge; or worse, become suspicious. "Indeed. But as to your… _Prophesy_, Headmaster, I'm afraid that my family will insist on validating it themselves. We'll go to the Department of Mysteries on the morrow, and investigate this matter ourselves."

Faux-regret down to a 'T', Dumbledore shook his head and spread his hands wide in a gesture of helplessness. "I'm sorry, dear boy, but that is simply not possible. You see, Tom Riddle has already retrieved the Prophesy fifteen years past, and there is no second copy. You'll simply have to take my word for it."

Hadrian, ever the Ravenclaw, stiffened in fury. It was one thing to lie to his face and basically tell him that, because of some washed-up, bogus half-baked 'prophesy', he would have to kill his blood-brother. It was quite another matter to slight his intelligence. It was well known to anyone with half a brain and the ability to fucking _read_, that Prophesies has as many copies as there were recipients. Copies could be retrieved by family, and the Potters and Frank Longbottom had retrieved and hidden their copies until their sons were ready. Dumbledore, boldfaced _lying_ about there being no more copies, _believing _that Hadrian and Neville were stupid, idiotic, that they wouldn't know the truth or difference and would be like no more than mindless sheeple.

It was with great effort that Hadrian restrained himself. Neville, sensing that his brother wouldn't last long, nodded curtly before staring nonchalantly at the Sorting Hat up on the shelf. "Hm. Be that as it may, you _do _know, Headmaster, that a Prophesy is only as powerful as the effort that goes into believing it? Well, Hadrian and I _don't_ believe it. You understand, of course, as Voldemort has been gone for fifteen years, and we wouldn't want to tempt fate and inadvertently bring him back from wherever he is – death or sabbatical, even – because we believed an already null and void Prophesy."

Neville and Hadrian both took great pleasure in Dumbledore's whitening face and clenching fists. They knew that he'd been hoping they wouldn't know that, would just believe what he spoke as Merlin-given truth, and that their cavalier and laid-back attitude could destroy all of his plans.

Knowing that they couldn't risk having the Headmaster watch them even closer than he already was, and knowing that they _definitely _couldn't risk him becoming even more suspicious, Hadrian continued with a half-truth of his own. "But rest assured, Dumbledore, that if Tom Riddle returns-" (_"__**When**__, dear boy." Dumbledore interrupted_) "-Neville and I shall do _exactly _what _The _Prophesy dictates."

And when Dumbledore sent them away, a handful of lemon drops apiece and no idea that they'd meant something entirely different than he had assumed, Justice smirked and laughed in tandem with his two Chosen Ones.

The rest of the year was spent snogging, learning, and training secretly in the Room of Requirement. And, with the help of Dobby the house elf (whom Justice had influenced Lucius to give to Harry and Nev as a birthday present) – whom informed them of curfews and patrolling teachers, as well as providing them with snacks – they were never caught or suspected, and the year ended on a very quiet note interspersed with tears and congratulations as the Twins graduated Hogwarts with top marks.

Cedric, who was so very proud of his wards, gave Fred and George the Triwizard Winnings with encouragement to start their shop, as well as the deed to an old Diggory house that was abandoned and smack-dab in the middle of Diagon Alley and already warded to repel all Weasleys except Bill and Charlie, who had transferred to the Welsh Dragon Reserve and was moving in with his two lovers.

They tried to refuse, on the grounds that, if Cedric wasn't independently wealthy, his guardianship of still underage Gwen could be revoked. Cedric shook his head, saying that they could only revoke his guardianship if he couldn't provide a steady source of income. And, with his acceptance into Puddlemere United – who were so excited to have him that they allowed him summers off, no questions asked, until Gwen graduated – there was no danger of that happening any time soon.

Also, they received a letter from the regrettably absent Bill, telling them that Gabrielle Delacour, Fleur's sister, had just come into her Inheritance and had been revealed as their third mate. Needless to say they were ecstatic, and wouldn't be leaving her for some time to come.

All in all, it was a spectacular end to a quiet, rather peaceful year. But there wasn't a one who didn't know that this was just the quiet before the storm. And all had a feeling that everything would be revealed the following year.

They would be right.

* * *

Sixth year started out fairly mild. The train ride was filled with greetings and laughter, although the absence of the Twins was felt keenly; especially by the morose Gwen, who had only been separated from them during their first three years of Hogwarts.

Nevertheless, everyone did their best to cheer her up, and by the time the train pulled into Hogsmeade and they all clambered into the thestral-drawn carriages, she was looking forward to the following year as much as the rest of them.

Then again, the appearance of her two boyfriends – Dean Thomas and Seamus Finnigan – might have had something to do with that as well.

The most notable bit of news, however, was the arrival of Hadrian and Neville's creature inheritances. As they had been blood-adopted by Tom, they also gained his Crimson Elf inheritance, which was _very _cool.

Unfortunately – with the pointed ears, slitted eyes, toned, warm complexions, and faint red symbols on their necks – it was near-impossible to hide. Indeed, the minute that Hadrian and Neville stepped through the main doors, everyone – including Dumbledore – knew what they were. And the sick gleam in Dumbledore's eyes as he caught sight of the light sparrow-shaped symbol on Harry's neck – signifying him as a submissive – was incredibly disturbing.

Unfortunately, Draco, as he was a pure-blooded wizard and not a Crimson Elf – only mated to one – he wouldn't come into his inheritance until next year; his seventeenth birthday. That meant that he was unable to consummate his mating with Tom; which meant that the sexual tension between the two made the summer pure _hell _for the rest of the manor's inhabitants.

Neville and Harry, however, had no such restrictions. Both they and their mates – Neville and Theo, Blaise and Harry – knew that, as soon as they could, they would be consummating their mateships, binding themselves together for life.

They managed to last until Samhain, although that was more due to not having a moment of free time than to actual self-restraint.

Little did they know, however, that as Neville led his Theo up to the Astronomy Tower and Blaise with Harry to the Room of Requirement, that this night would mark the beginning of the end.

* * *

***~*~***_**SMUT***_**~*~***

Blaise smiled tenderly as he slipped another chocolate-covered strawberry through the plump, red-stained lips of his small little love. Some might say it cliché, to serve such a treat on a date, but Blaise couldn't get enough of watching those lips purse as they wrapped around the fruit, tongue peeking out to catch the milk chocolate as it melted, cheeks that flushed a delicate pink in both arousal and bashfulness as he was fed decadent strawberries by his beloved mate.

Far more rewarding, however, was the small sighs and moans that escaped those tempting lips each time Blaise chased the flavor of fruit and chocolate with his own tongue; sure that there was no sweeter or more arousing taste than that of his love's lips coated with desire and sin itself.

Despite this being the moment that he'd been waiting on for nigh on three years, Blaise couldn't bring himself to rush it. The night that Blaise got to bind his delectable mate to him – mind, body, and soul; irrevocably, eternally – through delicious, hot, nerve-tingling _sex_.

Ever since he'd caught sight of those iridescent, coy, innocent, brilliant emeralds, and known that Harry was _his, _he'd been planning this moment. Every time since when he'd give his mate a hand- or a blow-job – where he'd pull and pull on that perfectly proportioned cock, watching as his minx writhed and moaned and mewed until he fell apart _gloriously_, gasping and sobbing as he spilled himself into Blaise's sinful hands – or when he'd take that cock down, down down his throat, until the head pressed against his voicebox, where every _hum_ and _moan _brought forth a toe-curling scream as Harry would shudder and writhe until he shattered and poured himself down Blaise's greedy, convulsing throat – Blaise had been planning, thinking, waiting, for this very moment.

The moment where he got to spread his mate wide and sink his own impatient cock into Harry's depths; scorching and burning and _claiming _every inch for himself as Harry wept and _begged_ for _more, harder, faster_ and Blaise could do no more than comply.

Suddenly, Blaise couldn't wait anymore, which was a good thing as he'd just fed Harry the last chocolate-covered strawberry. He chased the flavor down his mate's throat, sure fingers removing restricting clothing before stroking fire along heaving, trembling skin.

Harry threw his head back in a wordless cry, exposed throat being taken full advantage of as Blaise attached himself with inappropriate vigor, as experienced fingers wrapped around turgid, burning arousal and _pulled _with unerring accuracy and torment.

Automatically, Harry's legs fell apart to welcome Blaise between them, as they writhed together on their massive triple-king-sized silk scarlet sheets; as the Room of Requirement interpreted their needs and provided accordingly.

Harry's hips thrust more and more desperately, chasing that orgasm that Blaise, literally, held in the palm of his hand. _Just _as Harry stiffened and trembled, _just _as his imminent release prepared to wash over him, Blaise's hand slipped lower and clamped firmly around the base of Harry's cock, stopping the rush of cum and forcing a desperate, pleading _wail _from Harry's abused throat.

"Shhh love…" Blaise leaned over and, in a voice laden with _dark _and _sin _and _sex_, whispered into Harry's delicate, pointed ear. "Patience…"

Harry nodded and shook in a heady mixture of nervousness and arousal as Blaise took the special lubricant the Room provided and slicked up his own trembling cock before moving his glistening fingers towards Harry's waiting, shivering hole.

As the first, slick finger breached the gasping Crimson Elf, Harry's eyes rolled back in his head and he _screamed,_ hips bucking and riding so desperately that Blaise was forced to hold him down with his unoccupied hand. Every nerve ending was on _fire, _Harry had never felt anything so perfect or amazing, and never even noticed the second and third fingers being added until they pulled away.

Harry whined and sobbed, far beyond the point of making coherent words, and reached for Blaise as he shushed and soothed him and guided his cock towards Harry's quivering, clenching opening.

Deciding to just get it done with, Blaise rammed himself in, forcing the breath from Harry's lungs in a half-gasp half-sob as his prostate was hit with unerring accuracy and pleasure shot through his body and cock. After only a moment, Blaise pulled out and slammed back in, forcing another gasp-sob from Harry, before doing it again – and again and again and again.

Harry moaned and arched and screamed as Blaise thrust in over and over again, arse clenching and hands scrabbling madly for purchase as Blaise hitched Harry's knees over his shoulders so he could go _deeper harder faster_; and Harry trembled and shuddered and broke apart at the seams.

Or he would have, had Blaise still not had his hand clenched into a firm fist around Harry's weeping manhood.

"Please Blaise! Please… _please Blaise please please…_" Harry sobbed, unable to take anymore, tears pouring down his face from desperate, fevered emerald eyes.

"Who do you belong to! Say it Harry, say it!" Blaise growled, slamming harder and harder, grunting as Harry convulsed around him in his first dry orgasm.

Harry's back arched as he _screamed_ his answer, unable to hold back and _needing _to cum. "_YOURS! Yours Blaise, only YOURS!"_

"MINE!" Blaise roared, releasing Harry's cock – _finally_ – and following his screeching, sobbing, convulsing mate into blinding, white-hot pleasure as they came as _one_.

***~*~*_END _**_**SMUT***_**~*~***

They were now mates, bound together for eternity, and _nothing_ could or would tear them apart. Blaise would gut anyone who dared try.

* * *

The next morning found an identical smug, smirking Neville and Blaise watching their red-faced mates – Harry and Theo – try not to look at them for embarrassment. Justice snickered at their misfortune, but allowed them their moment of happiness and frivolity; for he knew that that time was soon past.

And he was right, for it wasn't too soon after that that Dumbledore commissioned Ginny Weasley to Imperio Draco Malfoy to go into the Slytherin Sixth Year boys' dormitories and steal some of Blaise Zabini's hair.

He planned to Polyjuice as Blaise to seduce and eventually rape Harry, submissive Crimson Elf, and thus remove all chances of him having children. Fortunately, he chose the wrong person for Ginny to Imperio and eventually Obliviate; for his mate – Tom Riddle – who was well aware of Dumbledore's vices, had taught Draco how to throw off Obliviates since before he came to Hogwarts.

Ginny's lasted long enough for her back to turn, before a furious Draco hexed and stunned her – _incendio-_ing Blaise's hair – and taking her back to the hidden Potter Manor for his mate, Voldemort, to take care of. Needless to say, Tom Riddle got the information from her, and she became the second Weasley to die – and the last of the old regime of Young Dumbledore Arse-Lickers from the alternate world. Justice was very, very pleased.

But Tom Riddle wasn't. Furious with what Dumbledore had tried to do not only towards his mate, but to his blood-brother as well; he decided that he'd waited long enough. Sending Draco back to Hogwarts to inform Severus, Sirius, and Remus and to order them to gather everyone and Floo to Potter Manor immediately, Tom began gathering all the followers that he'd amassed these long years of waiting.

Lord Voldemort had risen again, and was going to take Hogwarts, _finally_.

Dumbledick wouldn't know what hit him.

* * *

A week later Dumbledore looked out his window and was met with the sight of his doom.

He had been indulging in a few dozen of his calming draft-laced lemon drops (not to be mistaken for the liquid imperio-laced ones he reserved for visitors) as he contemplated the loss of his pawns.

His plan had been perfect, masterful. It was the culmination of three generations worth of work and planning. It had been the ultimate chess match, with him playing both sides and only winning; never losing. Yet, somehow, all his most powerful pieces had slipped his net, his influence.

Pettigrew, who was supposed to betray Lily and James; who would then leave Harry in his care, to be placed with his magic-hating relatives where any so-called 'Magic-balancing _power_' would be beaten out of him.

Bellatrix, whom he thought would have been driven mad enough (by his constant Obliviates and potions and, of course, the insanity of the Black blood) to hunt down and kill the Longbottom parents, thus leaving Neville with his grandmother and uncle. A couple of hard-nosed purebloods who believed in the old adage, '_A strong hand breeds strong magic'._ It had only been the late grandfather Longbottom who had spared Franklin, their son, that same hard, magic-suppressing upbringing. Instead, Bellatrix had been found dead some thirteen years ago; and Dumbledore suspected that she had been gently put down as her insanity progressed too far.

Severus and Draco, who were both supposed to have been molded into hard, cruel, spiteful people by their fathers and their surroundings, thus driving both Harry and Neville to Gryffindor and thus firmly under his thumbs – the easily molded Hermione, Ron, Ginny, and Gwen.

Except everything had been unraveled, the chess board ripped out from under his feet and now controlled by another being whom Dumbledore didn't know.

It mad maddening! Almost as much as when Fawkes, his phoenix familiar, abandoned him some fifty years back. Ever since, Dumbledore had been forced to use transfigured and glamored owls to put on the façade of a powerful, 'Light' wizard.

And then – _and then! – _when Dumbledore tried to get what he deserved, mainly a piece of that delicious, delicate submissive Potter's arse, all his most valuable pawns up and left! And his last young pawn had disappeared as well, which meant that his ears had been ringing all week from the combined power of Arthur and Molly Weasley's ire.

Dumbledore stood up and sighed, moving towards the window, preparing to watch the sun set on another day that passed with no knowledge of where his pawns had disappeared to – and that's when he saw it.

A massive group of people – what looked like about half of wizarding Britain – was advancing across Hogwarts' grounds.

And at the lead were three people – Hadrian Potter, Neville Longbottom, and Thomas Marvolo Riddle.

Dumbledore just about shit himself.

* * *

The ensuing battle was extremely short and rather anti-clamatic.

When Dumbledore had rushed onto the grounds with the Hogwarts staff behind him, along with the Order of the Phoenix whom he'd Floo-ed to his office were moments before; he had, indeed, been met with over half of wizarding Britain.

Tom had been busy, and had managed, through completely honest means, to bring nearly everyone to his side. By telling the truth Tom gained the support of the Wizengamot, the Ministry of Magic, the Unspeakables, and just about every notable and powerful and ancient house in England.

So when Dumbledore looked out and saw the Bones, the Prewetts, the Fudges, the Umbridges, the Scrimgeours and Tonks and Shakelbolts; and when nearly all of his Order members – barring Arthur and Molly Weasley – and nearly all of his professors – except for Vector, Binns, a drunk Trelawney, McGonagall, and Poppy Pomphrey – crossed over and joined Lord Voldemort's side; Dumbledore stood there dumbly, as though stunned, and didn't react when Tom Riddle, without preamble, disarmed Dumbledore and summoned his wand – the Elder Wand.

And he just stood there, mouth agape, as Harry, Neville, and Tom raised their wands and, with the power of the Prophesy and (though they wouldn't learn of this until later) the Deathly Hallows behind them, cast the killing curse; effectively ending the long and terrible life of one Albus Percival Wulfric Brian Dumbledore, along with the last of his supporters.

After that, everything went perfectly smoothly. When the Unspeakables revealed that Harry's cloak, Neville's ring, and Tom's wand were the Deathly Hallows; and that they were now Masters of Death and Immortal, the Wizarding World appointed them as their Kings of Magic and Rulers.

Immediately, they set to fixing everything wrong with the wizarding world, giving rights to all Magical Creatures and bringing it out of the Dark Ages. Remarkably, it was Lucius Malfoy who led the rise out of stagnation with the first waves of Floo Fones, which became the first mixture of Wizard and Muggle technology – the first of many.

What the rest of the world didn't know, however, was that, being the Masters of Death, Neville, Hadrian, and Tom could choose who would and wouldn't die. They were quick to give their mates Immortality, and offered it to their family members as well – those whom accepted it. Frank was one of those who didn't, having been separated from his dear Alice for long enough and not wanted to prolong with reunion. He died a perfectly natural death at one hundred sixty-five, in his sleep.

The Prophesy was fulfilled. Magic had it's balance, where anyone could practice Light or Dark magic at will, as with Filius Flitwick and Pomona Sprout's help they renovated the Hogwarts curriculum and appointed Severus Snape as Headmaster, with both Sirius and Remus as the joint Deputies.

Magical Orphanages were founded, and the complete separation from the Muggle world was put into effect. The minute that a muggle-born child was found, wizards would come upon them in their sleep and replace their child with a Muggle orphan from a nearby orphanage. They would then alter the memories of all Muggles involved, and take the newly-discovered magical child to the wizarding world's orphanages, where Magical family's would blood adopt them into their Lines.

It was a brilliant system that introduced new blood into old lines and thus prevented stagnation and eventual decline – and eventually muggle-born children stopped being born, as Magic no longer felt the need to compensate.

Evil Lords and Ladies stopped cropping up as, under their Kings, the Magical world reached a Utopia; where there was no murder or horror or evil.

Eventually, in the far future, Muggles would overpopulate and crowd the Magical World out. And the Magical World, with its superior technology and magic, would go off into space. To find themselves their _own _planet, with its own Magic, and make it their own.

But that wouldn't be for a time yet.

For now, everything was happy, and perfect.

And Justice was very, very, _very _pleased.

Sometimes, all you need to fix everything is five seconds, and an impossible wager.

* * *

_**A/N: This is a one-shot that was commissioned to me by glitterfairy1990. She was the first one to guess the correct pairing of not-Harry's parents for my story PHOENIX HOPE. And, as such, she was allowed to give me an outline/idea, and I'd type up a one-shot. So, here it is! Hope everyone likes it! It took me quite a while (37 pages and over 13,000 words) but it's totally worth it.**_

_**PLEASE review and let me know what you think. I'm VERY proud of this, and would be hurt it everyone thought it so crappy that they couldn't even review (yes, I'm shameless, I know. xP xD).**_

…_**Mischief Managed…**_


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